Page 65 of Bratva Ruin

“I’m in love,” he corrects. “That’s worse.”

And just like that, my chest tightens in the best possible way.

“I love you, too,” I say so quietly that I’m not sure if he hears it.

But then I feel it. His presence on the other side of the door shifts closer. His voice comes out lower. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?”

“Princess,” he demands. “Say. It. Again.”

My pulse races, but I still force from my lips, “I love you, Benedikt.”

“Let me open the door.”

I scoff. “No.”

“Sienna.”

“Ben,” I mock. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before.”

“I saw you last night.”

“Because you wouldn’t leave the room.”

There’s a pause, and then he lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh—half disbelief, half relief. “You’re really going to kill me, princess. You know that?”

“Not yet,” I whisper. “Not until after the cake.”

“You didn’t want a cake. You wanted cookies.”

I shrug. “Now, I want cake.”

Ben chuckles on the other side of the door, and I can see him shaking his head. “Alright, well, if you don’t kill me, Artem will.”

“He likes the exercise.”

“He’s going to hand me my ass.”

“Well, you’d better hurry, Volkov. We’re getting married.”

“Not soon enough. You ready to be Mrs. Volkov?”

“Yeah.” I rest my palm on the small swell of my belly. “I think I am.”

“Good. Because I’ve been ready since the day you strolled into my office.”

“Guess you win, then.”

“No, princess,” he says. “Wedo.”